Darkness gave way to warmth, a soft golden pulse that seemed to breathe.
Tyler opened his eyes—or what felt like his eyes—and found himself standing in a realm suspended in endless light. A glass-like floor stretched beneath his feet, reflecting his image in perfect detail.
Before him stood… himself.
But different.
The figure on the other side of the glass was a taller version of Tyler—lean but powerful, like a panther forged of steel and shadows. His skin was unblemished, yet glowing faintly with raw potential. His short buzz-cut hair was now replaced by long, jet-black strands that fell down to his shoulders, windswept and wild.
A holographic panel hovered beside him:
Welcome to Character Customization. Shape the warrior you are meant to be.
Tyler smirked, jaw clenching slightly.
"Let's make this real."
He dragged the height slider until his reflection grew—6'3", a solid, dominant figure. His shoulders widened, his frame balanced for speed and strength.
He moved to the next tab—Markings.
Dozens of patterns flashed by. But one caught his eye: a swirling, obsidian-black tattoo that crept across the chest, coiled around the shoulders, and split into twin rivers down both arms. A second pattern snaked up the neck, stopping just below the jaw, like ancient runes etched into his soul.
Tyler selected them both.
His reflection pulsed with new energy—dangerous, raw, yet elegant.
Do you confirm this version of yourself?
"Yes," he said firmly.
The world shuddered.
Scanning your physical and neural profile…
Analyzing potential…
Searching database…
Suddenly, the white room exploded in a flash of gold light.
Tyler shielded his eyes as the glass shattered beneath his feet—but he didn't fall. He floated. The shards swirled around him, forming symbols he didn't understand. Then a voice echoed—not robotic, not synthetic—but ancient, almost… reverent.
"Welcome… Tyler Freeman."
His blood ran cold.
"We've expected you."
Tyler's breath caught in his throat. Freeman. Not Halden. Not the name he was forced to wear. His true name.
"Congratulations. You have unlocked a Hidden Class: ANCIENT WARRIOR."
The tattoos on his in-game body glowed, their patterns now moving slightly—like they were alive, reacting to the revelation.
"Your class is one-of-a-kind. Each level gained will be ten times more effective than a standard class, though your outward level will appear average to others. This is a safety mechanism."
"You have inherited the combat potential of the Fallen Kings. Your strength, stamina, skill-learning, and combat instincts will evolve rapidly."
"Please note: All credits and skills gained in Ancient Apocalypse are transferred to your real-world body."
Tyler's mind reeled. This… this was it. The chance to become something. Not by bloodline. Not by name. But by power.
Then came a final message, glowing crimson beneath the golden sigils:
"WARNING: If you die in this world, you will die in the real world."
"Final note: If you make it to the capital of Queensland, investigate the ruins of House Myrion. There, you will find another clue about your past… and what was taken from you."
The swirling gold faded, and the light shattered into darkness.
"Initialization complete. Welcome, Ancient Warrior."
Tyler blinked against the warm sunlight as he materialized in the center of a bustling starting town—Ashvale. The streets were cobblestone, the buildings a blend of medieval architecture and high fantasy tech, with floating signs, enchantment shops, and guild banners waving lazily in the breeze. The smell of roasted meat and iron from the blacksmith filled the air.
Dozens of new players stood nearby, gawking at the scenery or testing out their weapons. Some waved swords around awkwardly, while others poked at their interfaces, excited chatter echoing through the square.
NPCs moved seamlessly among them, indistinguishable at a glance. Vendors shouted about sales, mercenary recruiters offered quests, and bounty boards flickered with new notices.
Tyler moved through the crowd, hood pulled up, observing everything with sharp eyes.
Ashvale felt alive.
But the real world was still fresh in his mind.
One life… he reminded himself. No screw-ups.
Suddenly, as he turned a corner, he collided hard with someone. A soft grunt followed, and he stumbled back.
A young woman lay on the cobblestones, rubbing her shoulder.
"Oh, crap—" Tyler reached out. "I didn't see you, sorry."
The girl looked up with narrowed eyes. She had short white-blonde hair tied into a small ponytail, her cloak dusty and worn. She was armed with a slender staff at her back and fingerless gloves crackling slightly with faint blue magic.
Her eyes locked onto him—and glowed faintly.
"…You." she muttered, quickly swiping a glowing finger across the air. A player scan.
Analyzing Player…
Name: Tyler Freeman
Class: Ancient Warrior [HIDDEN]
Level: 1
HP: ???
MP: ???
Status: Unknown
Combat Weight: Irregular
She went pale.
"We need to talk. Now." She grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the street.
"Wait—what? Who are you?" Tyler asked, frowning.
She kept walking, glancing around like someone was watching. "Not here. Outside the gate."
Outside Ashvale – Forest Edge
The trees rustled around them as birds scattered into the sky. Tyler leaned against a rock as the young woman paced in front of him, biting her lip in thought.
"Alright," he said. "Now can you tell me who you are?"
She sighed. "My name's Kaela, I'm a ranger-mage hybrid. I've been playing this game since closed beta. And I've never seen stats like yours. Not even from dev spawns."
He raised an eyebrow. "You scanned me. What did you see?"
She stared at him. "That your stats are hidden. Your health and mana—question marks. That only happens if your numbers are so high the system doesn't know how to display them, or if your class is completely unrecognized."
Tyler hesitated, then opened his status panel.
[Player Status]
Name: Tyler Freeman
Level: 1
Class: Ancient Warrior [Hidden]
Strength: 100
Vitality: 100
Agility: 100
Luck: 100
Mana: ∞ (Infinite)
Credits: 0
Inventory:
– Obsidian Blade [Uncommon]
– Rusted Short Sword
– Traveler's Cloak
– Basic Healing Potions x3
– "Clue Fragment: House Myrion"
Tyler blinked.
"…Mana is infinite?" he muttered aloud.
Kaela looked over and staggered a step back.
"No way," she breathed, eyes wide. "That… that's impossible. Mana doesn't do that. Even Archmages are capped. You'd need to be tethered to a leyline or some world-core artifact for infinite mana—"
She stopped mid-sentence and stared at him with something between awe and fear.
"You're not just some boosted warrior," she whispered. "You're something else. That class—Ancient Warrior—it's not just power, it's divine-tier. Infinite mana at level one? That means you could cast high-tier skills endlessly. Regeneration spells. Summons. Sword auras. Whatever that class gives you—there won't be a cooldown strong enough to hold you back."
Tyler closed the panel, still processing it.
"I just want to change my life," he said quietly. "If this game is giving me a way out… then I'm going to take it. No matter what I have to do."
Kaela studied him again, more seriously now.
"…Then whatever happens next, Tyler, you'd better stay alive. Because if word gets out that someone with infinite mana is roaming around Ashvale?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"You won't stay hidden for long."